White Christmas
by Soleya
Summary: Sam's dreaming of a white Christmas... but a gate malfunction may put that on hold indefinitely.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: I hope everyone had a fantastic holiday. This just popped into my head last night and won't leave me alone; it has not been beta'd because I won't bug my poor betas on Christmas. :-) Nor have I obsessed over it for weeks, as I usually do - I'm posting it as I go to make myself write it all tonight. Sorry it's not all going up at once - I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Are you kidding? I don't own anything.

* * *

**White Christmas**

It was oh nine hundred hours on December twenty-third, and Sam Carter was waiting patiently in the Embarkation Room, only mildly perturbed at being sent off world two days before Christmas. Teal'c, too, waited, calm as ever. But when Colonel O'Neill checked his watch for the ninth time in under a minute, she spoke up. "Sergeant? Would you page Daniel, please?"

"Yes, ma'am," Walter responded crisply.

The Colonel shot her a glare. "Doesn't he get that the sooner we _leave_, the sooner we'll get back?"

"Holiday plans, sir?" she asked with a smile.

"Yes."

One eyebrow lifted in surprise before it occurred to her to stop it. "Yeah?" He had no family – that she knew of – and though Daniel had mentioned a team thing for Christmas a few times, it had only been in passing. Unless, of course, they'd turned it into a guy thing. She pushed down a little stab of panic that she was being left out. "Whatcha doing? If I may ask."

He shrugged. "It involves a couch, a hockey game, and multiple beers."

Oh. "Cheery," she managed with a forced smile. That sounded terrible, and in her head, she started plotting the long-forgotten team holiday. "You know, I'll have to check with Janet, but I bet Cassie would love to see you guys for Christmas."

"I gave you her present." Panic flashed across his brown eyes. "Didn't I?"

"Yes, sir. But you could give it to her yourself. She's really getting into Christmas this year – which is great – and maybe we could do dinner or something. I mean, we're all the family she has." And after three years on Earth, she was finally starting to settle into the traditions.

"Hmm," he said.

"She's been talking for weeks about a white Christmas, since it's been kind of warm this year. I've never known a kid to be so into the weather until now. She's really got her heart set on it." And, if she were honest, so did Sam. The box in the attic full of her mother's old snow globes came to mind, though she could never bear to put them out.

"I build a mean snowman," he offered, and the image it conjured made her grin. "Of course," he added – loudly – as Daniel wandered his way into the Embarkation Room, "if we don't _leave_ soon, Christmas will come and go _without_ us."

She grinned as the archaeologist finally realized how late he was and hurried over. "Sorry."

With an exaggerated sigh, Colonel O'Neill motioned to the Control Room that they were ready, and the General authorized the dial sequence. It was mere seconds before Daniel asked, "Hey, Sam?"

"Yes, Daniel?"

"Can I drive FRED this time?"

Surprised, she glanced at the all-terrain vehicle near the ramp, fully loaded with all her supplies – her expensive supplies – then to him, then to the remote in her hand.

"Call it an early Christmas present," he pressed.

Maybe it was the gleeful boyish look on his face, but she caved. "Don't wreck it, and bring it back with a full tank," she joked, handing him the remote.

"Have I told you lately how great you are?"

Rolling her eyes, she stepped up next to her CO as the wormhole engaged. "I hope I don't live to regret that."

"Me, too. To Oz," he invited, ever so slightly ahead of her as he strode up the ramp to the vortex and stepped through.

She saw it too late, after one leg was already through. After her chest, one arm, and even the tip of her nose had passed the threshold and halting her inertia would have been impossible, and her brain was calculating the implications of it even as momentum carried her past.

The wormhole flickered.


	2. Chapter 2

It was like riding a bull, Sam imagined – several horrible seconds of bucking and twisting while just trying to hold on (though, unlike the bull riders, she had no saddle). It was followed, of course, by a moment – half a second, maybe – of peace. Blissful, utterly silent, zero-gravity peace as the wormhole ejected her with force, sending her flying through the air.

And it ended with her hitting the dirt. Hard. She tried to roll a little, to cushion the shock, but even the small pack she carried stopped her efforts and left her skidding across the ground on her left arm, instead. "Ow," she managed, giving herself a second to recover before even attempting to get up.

"What the hell was _that_?" The Colonel sounded as beaten up as she felt – and pissed off.

"Not sure, sir," she said, quickly checking her surroundings before pushing up to sitting and checking herself for injuries. Luckily, her jacket had protected her arm pretty well. "Something must have happened to the wormhole."

"No. Really?"

She chose to ignore the sarcasm as they both got to their feet. "It lost stability, sir."

"I got that. Now just tell me Danny and Teal'c's molecules haven't been scattered to the wind."

Yeah, she was pretty sure they hadn't made it through even as she'd been bouncing through the great nothingness of the vortex. Sure enough, they were nowhere to be seen. "I don't think so, sir."

"What are the odds they're stuck in the gate again?" he asked, and a glance at him confirmed her suspicions – in part, at least, his irritation was an attempt to hide his serious concern for them.

"I don't think so. I don't think they ever even made it through the event horizon, sir. My guess is they're standing in the Gate Room right now trying to figure out what happened."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You seem awfully certain of that, Major."

"Yes, sir. See, whatever happened... well, _happened_ right before I stepped through. I saw the wormhole flicker once, so my guess is it all shut down right after that. Daniel was maneuvering FRED, and Teal'c was behind him. They were probably still halfway down the ramp."

The silence stretched long, charged, as he stared at her. Finally, incredibly uncomfortable, she asked, "Sir?"

He chewed his lip a moment. "You _saw_ it? You saw it wig out... and you still went through? Are you _nuts_?"

"Well, I was... I mean, I..." She sighed. "It was a last-second thing, sir. Past the point of no return, y'know. I barely even saw it."

"Hmph." He didn't look entirely convinced, but he let it go. "So what now?"

"I'll check the DHD on this end, sir, for anything that might have caused the problem. If I don't find anything, we'll try dialing home."

Two large hands gestured politely toward the alien device... though the kindness of it was diminished more than a bit by the deep frown on his face. Wincing, hoping she'd find some huge, glaring problem, she hurried to the DHD and rolled up her sleeves.


	3. Chapter 3

Frustrated, impatient, Sam rapped her fingers against the side of her laptop as she waited for the diagnostics program to reinitialize. She hadn't been lucky enough, of course, to find a missing crystal or loose wire or... anything – _any reason_ – why the gate shouldn't be working.

And yet it wasn't. At all. All attempts to dial out had been miserable failures. And there had been no attempts to dial in.

It was that second part that had her concerned. What if the problem was at home while she was off world? She trusted the techs, of course: Siler and Harriman and the team of scientists – well, Siler and Harriman, at least. But the idea of being stuck thousands of light years away from the problem, unable to help, was incredibly frustrating.

Making a mental note to work on her control issues, Sam nibbled at the energy bar the Colonel had given her and resumed tapping her fingers.

"Anything?"

Colonel O'Neill had been far more patient than usual... and it made her wonder if his rapid exit from the gate had left him with a traumatic brain injury. "Sorry, sir, no."

He dropped a second energy bar in her lap. She held up the half-eaten one defensively and got a glare in response.

Taking a bigger nibble to assuage him, she went back to the program, caught herself muttering curses at it, and forced a deep breath. At least she had her laptop. At least she'd put the most vital of her things – energy bars, tool kit, and laptop included – in her pack rather than in the flight cases on FRED. Assuming the Colonel had done the same, they had at least a few days' worth of food.

A few days. The thought made her heart sink. A few days would put them off world through Christmas. No party, no presents with Cassie, no snow... no venturing into the attic to open that old box of her mother's and remember. It was a sad tradition, but it was _hers_.

Finally, the software managed its eighth or ninth restart, and the energy bar tumbled into her lap, forgotten, as she disappeared once again into the data.

"Carter... How long are the days on this planet supposed to be?"

She glanced up and blinked, surprised more than annoyed at the interruption. She had no idea how much time had passed since he'd last spoken to her, except that the energy bar had dried to a nasty crisp in her lap and her stomach rumbled and her back was pretty unhappy about the sudden movement. "I have no idea. Why?"

"Because it's been twelve hours since you started tinkering with that thing." He pointed to his watch. "And in that time the sun has gone from there," he went on, indicating a spot just above the mountains, "to there."

Sure enough, it was nearly straight overhead. She pursed her lips. "I thought it was getting warmer."

"Yeah. And we've been up for over sixteen hours now. I'm thinkin' it's time to sack out for a bit."

"At noon? I mean, planet time."

"I know you'd work through a fifty-hour day, Carter, but I'm not even gonna try. If we might be stuck here for awhile, we're gonna need to create a schedule our bodies can work with." Deftly removing his sunglasses, he tossed them at her. "Pretend."


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Well, this chapter got twisted. *ahem* Moving on...

* * *

_There were hundreds of them, all perfectly aligned, perfectly lit, perfectly covered in snow. It was every child's dream, but she was so small and the trees were too tall, looming, leaving shadows that danced with the breeze and made her nervous._

_Movement caught her eye, sending her spinning right. "Mom?" She darted through two of the trees toward the motion. She had to be there – she wouldn't have left her alone. "Mom? Where are you? Mom?"_

_But there was nothing. Nothing but the wind beginning to whip around her face, harsh as the shadows, and she turned her back to it. Ahead of her, something moved again._

"_Mom?" She raced for her, moving fast, but the wind changed again, howling against her. It blew up the snow, only it wasn't – it didn't melt when it hit her skin, but sliced, tiny shards of glass that stuck in her mittens and tore into her cheeks. But it couldn't stop her as the shadow charged ahead without her. "Mom, wait!" she cried, her salty tears stinging the cuts and freezing halfway down her face._

_And she was gaining on her, catching up, when suddenly the ground shifted and went vertical as if someone had picked up the world and shaken it and she was falling, screaming-_

"Carter!"

Sam snapped into reality with a gasp. The white was gone, replaced by glaring sunlight and two concerned brown eyes. "Bad dream?"

"Yeah." She went to rub her eyes, only to find that Colonel O'Neill had a solid grip on her hand and wasn't letting go.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

"Yes, sir. Sorry." Gently tugging her hand free, she blinked a few times and pushed to sitting. The dream was all new and all old and all too relevant – the girl without a mother on Christmas, lost and alone, and it made her so glad that Cassie had Janet. Still, she wanted to share in that. "Can I go back to work now?"

He checked his watch, waffled a second, then shrugged. "Sure."

"I'd just really like to be home for Christmas, sir." She, too, glanced at her watch.

Six a.m. Christmas Eve Day. Time was running very, very short.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam nearly screamed in frustration as the sun dipped toward the mountains, her second energy bar of the day in hand. She was losing light fast – not that it mattered, since she was getting nowhere, anyway. Behind her, the Colonel was building a fire, but she'd kept her back to him. Since the nightmare – and so, all day – she'd felt on edge, and she wasn't sure how much more compassion she could take from him.

Especially since there were only four hours 'til Christmas.

"Come eat," he called. She held the energy bar up over her shoulder in response and hoped that would fend him off, since misery and failure were already floating around at the bottom of her stomach and were threatening not to play well with anything else.

Her hopes were dashed when he settled on the ground next to her. "This isn't your fault, Carter."

"Thank you, sir. But I know that."

After a moment, he said, "Guess I didn't realize Christmas was such a big deal to you."

"It's not." She sighed. "I mean, it hasn't been. I mean, I didn't think it was, but... I guess I've never missed one before. Even in the Gulf, we did, y'know, something. What we could. They'd put up mistletoe as a joke. And they always served us a special dinner, and..."

Beside her, he nodded – he'd been there.

"And I think it's different with Cassie, too. I mean, as we grow up, I think we forget what it was like. How magical it was when we were little. But she's been so excited, and I just... I wanted to be there for her, y'know? I mean, it's not like she has a lot of family."

"And you know what it's like to miss family at Christmas."

The breath rushed from her lungs in a whoosh.

"Crap. I didn't mean... I mean, I meant Jacob. Growing up military. I wasn't..." He really hadn't meant to remind her of her mother's death. "Sorry, Carter."

It took her a moment to be sure she could respond without bursting into tears over the disappointment of it all. "It's okay, sir."

"Next time Daniel asks if he can drive, remember this moment and kick him in the shins."

Despite herself, she laughed. "That's what I get for being nice to him."

"Exactly!"

"No, really. I mean, I should be at home, and he should be the one stuck out here with you!" At his raised eyebrow, she added quickly, "Of course, you're, y'know, fine company. I mean, I-"

He took pity on her and the foot in her mouth. "I know what you mean. And I know you got the short end of the stick here." Before she could protest, he put a gentle hand on her arm. "But I didn't."

That couldn't mean what she thought it did, but he was giving her the warmest, sweetest smile. For the first time, she thought maybe – just maybe – this Christmas wouldn't be a total loss after all.


	6. Chapter 6

"Carter. Hey, Carter."

She'd been sleeping through it all – the wind howling through the trees, rattling their branches and sending leaves careening down around them. She'd even slept through the chattering of her own teeth, but his voice cut right through. She woke to find herself hunkered far down in her sleeping bag, curled tightly against the chill, and she had to fight her way out. "Sir? What's happening?"

"Cold front, Carter." He yelled it over the wind as he shoved their things quickly into her pack. "And I'm thinkin' this is just the beginning."

A crack sounded in the canopy above them, sending them both hunching instinctively as a dead limb fell from a tree thirty meters away. They needed shelter. Badly. "The UAV scans showed mountains just to the west, sir," she called. "Maybe there's something more stable that direction."

"That's the plan." Tossing her the pack to resecure her sleeping bag, he quickly disassembled the fire, smothering the larger logs and kicking dirt through the embers. "Last thing we need's a wild fire, too," he muttered. "Let's go."

He led the way, and she was grateful for it, as even the wind whipping around him threatened to knock her from her feet. It was a precarious balance between leaning into the wind, watching where she was going, and protecting her face from the dry leaves that whipped past, stinging her cheeks and threatening her eyes. The flashes of nightmare they conjured were more than a little unwelcome.

With only the beams of their flashlights in the blackness, she couldn't see the small mountains, but she knew they were getting close. The wind was steadier, warmer – though it still left goosebumps up her arms – and worst of all, stronger. She stumbled once, and Colonel O'Neill took her arm solidly.

"Thanks!" she yelled, though it was lost in the howl.

The rock came up quickly after that, the sheer face looming high into the darkness. It was hardly windless, the eddies still swirling, but at least the weather had lost a bit of its bite as they plastered themselves against the cliff face, moving slowly, seeking anything they could use as shelter.

What they found wasn't large – twenty feet deep, maybe, and just tall enough for a fire – but it seemed sound enough. And it was blissfully quiet compared to the flying tree limbs outside. As quickly as possible, they gathered enough wood to last the night and set about making a fire.

"Temperature must've dropped forty degrees," the Colonel muttered. "Fer cryin' out loud, it's cold."

"And it's much warmer here, in the lee of the mountain," Sam said. When he glanced at her, she added, "It's all due to adiabatic cooling as the air sinks and-"

"Carter," he interrupted, already over the scientific babble, "it's the middle of the night."

The realization hit her like a rock to the gut, and she checked her watch. Twelve-thirty. "It's Christmas," she said softly.

"Yeah." He offered her a sad smile before reaching over to unclip the sleeping bag from her pack. Deftly unrolling it, he unzipped the side and climbed in. "Might as well sleep, since we can't exactly be out there."

She blinked at him, looking all comfortable in her sleeping bag. "Sir?"

"Temperature's still dropping, Carter," he said. "Who knows how cold it's gonna get? And I'd rather not become a Christmas icicle."

He was so matter-of-fact about it that she could hardly refuse without seeming unreasonable. Sure, there were certain... tensions... between them, but if he could handle it, so could she. Giving a nonchalant shrug, she slipped into the bag beside him and turned to face the fire.

To her surprise, he turned into her, his chest to her back, offering her an arm as a pillow and wrapping the other around her waist. "Warm enough?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." After a moment, he added, softer, "I'm sorry about Christmas, Carter."

She bit her cheek. "Do you think it's snowing in Colorado Springs? Cassie really wanted a white Christmas."

Jack hugged her a little tighter – it wasn't only Cassie who'd wanted things to be just right, he knew. "They were saying if the temperature dropped a degree or two that it would stick. I bet she'll wake up to an inch or two."

"Thank you, sir."

"Don't mention it." Shifting a bit, he buried his nose in her neck – only, of course, because it was cold. Not because her shampoo still smelled good after two days or because she fit so perfectly up against him.

Maybe Carter's Christmas was ruined, but Jack couldn't help but feel his had turned out better than he'd planned.


	7. Chapter 7

She rolled over to find him gone, her sleeping bag hers alone again – and yet somehow intolerably empty. Blinking away the last vestiges of sleep, she finally determined that the dark figure in the midst of the sunlight streaming through the cave entrance had to be him. "Sir?"

The figure turned in silhouette, the light from the fire unable to vie with the almost supernatural brilliance behind him. "Morning."

"Everything okay, sir?"

Her eyes were just barely beginning to adjust to the odd lighting when he turned his back on her again. He said something that she didn't really catch in the echoes of the cavern.

"What was that?"

He turned halfway back. "I said, it's too cold to snow."

Keeping the sleeping bag pulled tightly around her shoulders, she struggled to sitting. "Technically, sir, it's never too cold to snow. It's just that air can hold less moisture the colder it gets. And it's a difference in temperature, like the strong cold front we had, that creates the loft necessary for precipitation to form, although the air usually dumps most of the moisture on the windward side of-"

"Shut up, Carter."

"Yes, sir."

"C'mere." His eyes still intently on something outside the cavern, he held an inviting arm back toward her. Reluctant to leave her cozy little wrap but intrigued by his behavior, she slid free and padded past the fire to the entrance of the cave. And gasped.

It had snowed overnight – and not just a little. The entire landscape was blanketed in several inches of it, clean, totally undisturbed white. It sat daintily atop the tree branches, drifted across the mountains, swirled gently in the breeze. And best of all, it was composed of the tiny flakes that shimmered like diamonds in the sunlight – like the most beautiful of her mother's snow globes.

Nothing in Colorado Springs could compare to the miles and miles of still, white perfection, and she knew she'd never see anything like it again.

"Merry Christmas, Carter." His hand landed warmly at the small of her back and made her smile.

"Merry Christmas, sir."


	8. Chapter 8

"Christmas breakfast was always chocolate chip pancakes and hot cocoa."

Colonel O'Neill raised an eyebrow. "Not energy bars and tea? Really? 'Cause that's what we got."

Laughing a little, she pulled her little metal cup from the embers around the fire and took a sip before handing it to the man next to her. "I bet you'll never make fun of me for carrying tea bags again."

"Clearly, you don't know me at all," he shot back, feigning emotional injury. "I'll make fun of anyone for anything. But this is really good."

As they were sitting huddled together beneath her open sleeping bag, she had to pull away a little in order for her disbelieving stare to have full effect.

"Because it's hot," he clarified quickly. "And only because it's hot. Not because I, y'know, _like_... tea."

"Are you saying real men don't drink tea?"

"I'm saying this man drinks coffee and beer, Carter, and that's just about-"

"Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter, come in."

The look they shared was but a millisecond long before the Colonel dove for his radio. "Yeah. We're here."

"It's good to hear your voice, Colonel," General Hammond said. "What's your status?"

"Uh... it's gotten _cold_, sir. We've taken shelter due west of the gate, sir, and there's several inches of snow on the ground."

"It's likely deeper by the gate," Sam said. She opened her mouth to explain exactly why that would happen, but he waved her off and merely repeated her words to the General.

"Understood. We'll investigate the situation further from this end," their CO promised.

"Sir?" Jack asked. "Daniel and Teal'c?"

"They're here, Colonel. And concerned about you."

Because she knew it was geeky and Colonel O'Neill couldn't care less about the answer, Sam leaned over and pressed his thumb to engage the talk button. "What happened to the gate, sir?"

"As far as we can tell, Major, there was some sort of system-wide outage," he said. "We're documenting everything, and I assume you'll want to look at it upon your return."

"Yes, sir. Thank you."

The Colonel shot her a dirty look and reclaimed the radio. "About that _return_, sir..."

The snowmobiles arrived a little under two hours later, manned by a worried Daniel and an ever-stoic Teal'c. And as grateful as she was to see them – and the weather-appropriate clothing they brought – she couldn't help but frown a little as the machines left tracks in the perfect white snow.


	9. Chapter 9

It had, in fact, snowed in Colorado Springs. Not nearly as much, and it had already been marred by a small army of plows, shovels, people, and dogs, but it counted. And it made Sam smile for Cassie's sake.

"No, wait," she called from the backseat as Daniel moved into the right-hand turn lane for her house. "Drop me at Janet's. I was gonna spend Christmas with Cassie."

The archaeologist glanced backward briefly, but couldn't really afford to keep his eyes off the road; it was Teal'c who spoke. "You and O'Neill are not the only ones to suffer misfortune this holiday. One of Doctor Fraiser's kitchen appliances has failed."

"Her fridge went out," Daniel explained. "And the stores were closed and the food was going to go bad and it wasn't cold enough outside to keep the ice cream frozen."

"Young Cassandra was quite displeased," the Jaffa added dryly.

"Right. So the two of us borrowed Jack's truck and moved the tree and the food and all the presents to your house. Janet didn't think you'd mind."

Sam laughed. "I don't. And there was plenty of room in my fridge."

Daniel chose – wisely – to leave that alone, though Teal'c said, "Indeed."

They pulled up in front of Sam's house mere moments later, and Sam and Colonel O'Neill had made it no more than two feet past the front gate when Cassie erupted from the house, bounded down the steps, and tackled them into a group hug. "You made it!" she cried. "I thought you were going to miss it, and then Uncle Daniel called and said they'd found you and they were bringing you home and I think it's going to be the _best_ Christmas with all of you here!"

Sam grinned at the Colonel as he scooped the growing girl into his arms. "Oh, come on, you didn't think I'd let Carter miss Christmas, did you?"

Choosing to ignore that and let him be the hero for a moment, Sam made her way inside and to the kitchen where Janet bustled, cramming more pans than Sam had ever seen into the oven. "Finding everything?"

"Yup." Kitchen mitts on, the shorter woman hurried around the counter and hugged her briefly. "I'm glad you're okay. I hear the weather got bad out there."

"It was scary for a bit." She didn't mention how the evening had ended with the Colonel in her sleeping bag. "But it snowed, Janet, and it was... incredible. This sounds stupid, but it was like this perfect, gigantic snow globe, all glittering and smooth. It was so beautiful."

"What's a snow globe?"

The question came from behind her, where Cassie stood with the rest of SG-1. "Well," Sam said, "it's a... globe. It's a glass ball, full of liquid and glitter, and it looks like snow."

"People collect them," Janet told her.

The girl blinked, clearly nonplussed. "Why?"

"Because they're pretty," Sam said. "Some people collect ornaments, some people collect paintings, some people collect snow globes."

"A ball full of glitter? That doesn't sound fun at all," Cassie insisted.

Janet took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I don't suppose you have one to show her."

"Uh, I don't..." But she'd hesitated, and she was caught. "Yeah, I do. But I don't really bring them out. They're really old, and... and really fragile."

"I'll be careful, I swear!"

And so, against her better judgment, Sam crawled up the ladder to the attic and carefully slid the old, dusty box out into the open. Taking one off the top, she climbed back down and gingerly unwrapped it on the kitchen island.

"Wow, it's so cool!" Cassie exclaimed, her nose almost to the glass as she looked at the dozen figure skaters inside. "They're so tiny!"

Without picking it up, terrified of breaking it, Sam slid it in a circle just big enough to stir up the glitter inside, earning a cry of pure glee from the little girl.

"Changed her mind, I see," the Colonel said.

"Yeah." Tenderly, eager to have it back in its place, she resecured the bubble wrap around it. "I'll be back in a minute."

Only when her mother's box of snow globes was safely back in its place did her heart slow down enough to sit and enjoy dinner.

~/~

As ordered, Sam took the next day off, and it was noon when her doorbell rang. She opened the door to an empty porch, save a small red box by the door. Curious, she carried it into the kitchen and lifted the top.

Inside sat a brand new snow globe – a grand mountain range in the back and a thousand tiny, detailed trees. The only things missing, she knew, were a stargate and two chilly soldiers. She was grinning ear to ear before she even saw the card.

_This one you can leave out._

_Merry Christmas, Carter._

_~/~_

* * *

The End.

(I got it done! Woot!)


End file.
